


Potato Soup and Tea

by Debi_C



Series: Alpha Gate Challenges [6]
Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Gen, Pajamas & Sleepwear, Sickfic, Smarm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-23
Updated: 2016-04-23
Packaged: 2018-06-03 22:13:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6628699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Debi_C/pseuds/Debi_C
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alpha Gate Challenge:  Birthday Boy? Or Birthday Blues?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Potato Soup and Tea

Colonel Jack O'Neill entered his office Monday morning to find a note on his desk. 'Dr. Jackson had called in sick today' the little post-it note written in the General's secretary's handwriting said primly . Jack kicked his chair back away from his desk and dropped his stack of letters and forms on the center of his desk, then he picked up the note and turned it to read it again.

Daniel never called in sick. In fact his lack of absences were legendary. The joke in general was he drank so much coffee that the little germ buggers never stood a chance to infect him with anything. Well, earthly ones anyway, alien ones didn't count. Humm, he picked up his phone and dialed Daniel's apartment. The answering machine promptly picked up. "Hi!" It said, "This is Daniel. You're talking to a machine. I'm not here or I'm not answering the phone for some reason. Leave your name and phone number and I'll call you back."

"Daniel, this is Jack. Pick up the phone please. If you don't pick up the phone, I'm coming over to check on you. Daniel? Okay, you asked for it. I'll be there in 30 minutes." He hung up the instrument, grabbed his hat and headed out the door.

*******

This is ridiculous, O'Neill thought as he parked the truck on the street outside of Daniel's apartment building. He's probably just asleep or something. I'm sure I'm just overreacting. But as he rode up in the elevator to the ninth floor, he had a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach. 

He knocked on Daniel's door. No one answered. Fishing for the spare key on his key ring, Jack unlocked the door and looked in. Humm, nothing abnormal so far. Piles of stuff everywhere. The Jackson filing system, no place for anything and nothing in its place was in full display. He walked through the living room area but there was apparently no resident available to check on. Looking into the bedroom he picked out the lump in the bed completely covered with the comforter.

O'Neill walked over to the queen sized bed and gazed down at Daniel. The morning light that came in through the window reflected onto the younger man's face. There was a fine sheen of perspiration evident and a slight odor of illness in the air. A bottle of pink bismuth was on the bedside table, along with some liquid nighttime cold medicine. Jack sat down on the side of the bed and reached a hand over to his friend's tee shirt clad shoulder. "Daniel...Daniel. You in there?"

There was some slight movement, a sniff and a cough. Jackson finally shifted, rolled over and looked up at O'Neill squinting myopically at him. "Jag?" Came the croaked unenthusiastic greeting.

"Hi. How ya doin?" This was not the Daniel he wanted to find. The young scientist had been extremely busy the past two weeks, as had Jack. He'd been hoping that they could spend some time together on Daniel's birthday. They had briefly discussed a small dinner party with just their immediate circle of friends; the few they had left after five years at a highly hazardous job anyway.

In response to Jack's question, Daniel rolled over and tried to talk but succeeded to instigate a coughing fit that lasted a good five minutes. O'Neill backed off and headed into the bathroom, returning with a damp wash cloth and a glass of water. After the spasms had stopped, Jack helped him sit up and handed him the glass. After Daniel had had several swallows, the older man started to wipe his face with the cloth which Jackson relieved him of and finished the job himself. He sighed and looked up at O'Neill.

"Whad are yod doing 'ere?" Daniel croaked confusedly. 

Jack smiled at him. "I was notified that you called in sick. You never call in sick, so I thought I'd take an early lunch and check on you." Jack took the cloth from him and looked at him with compassion. "I'm glad I did. Do you want me to give you a ride in and let Doc look at you?"

"No, Jag. Danks but I dink I jusd want to stay here in bed and clos to the badroom." He tried to smile convincingly but failed miserably. "I dink I've got da flue or a good cod. Youd probably ougd to run for your lif."

"Nah, if it's going around the SGC I'll probably get it anyway." He replied jokingly, "I'll just beat the crowd." He looked down at his friend critically. "Have you eaten anything, or should I say, kept anything on your stomach?"

At Daniel's miserable headshake, Jack patted him on the shoulder and headed into the kitchen. Once there he put a kettle on to boil and went in search of sustenance of a mellow kind. He found some tea, some bouillon cubes and some crackers...not a great selection for a healthy person, but suitable for one with a rebellious stomach. He puttered around the kitchen feeling comfortable in the 'Dad' role he assumed around Daniel sometimes.

Their jobs at the SGC, Jack's as Vice-Commander and Daniel's as chief Civilian Consultant and occasional cultural liaison had both been full plates so to speak for several weeks now. They had not left the two men much time to enjoy their friendship and Jack was beginning to fear that their previous closeness was beginning to suffer because of it. 

Theirs was a friendship that needed attention every once in a while. Oh, the innate trust didn't falter so much as their own self-confidence. Left too long to their own devices they, being solitary men by their natures, would withdraw back into their own little worlds too much. Daniel would alternate from his on-going self imposed research into the Goa'uld history and language, to his translations of other cultures that were located on different planets, to his 'relaxations' of Egyptology and other Earth ancient cultures. In other words not a movie, a picnic, or a TV night with pizza in sight.

And Jack knew that his own 'social life' would spiral down to work, working out, a hockey game once a week to star gazing on his rooftop observatory... also managing to forget the aforementioned movie, a picnic, or a TV night with pizza. And of course they suffered for their neglect. But together, he and Daniel could and would enjoy companionship, relaxation and the joy of having someone around who truly understood and appreciated the other without fear of judgment or criticism. 

This evening had been cleared for the dinner party and whatever would have happened afterwards; were it to have been a video of an old favorite movie, a trip to a theatre or just a night of visiting with friends who all lead much too busy lives.

A paroxysm of coughing from the bedroom led Jack back to his patient with the tray loaded with the beneficial fluids, dry crackers and a bag of peppermint he'd located stuck in the fridge for some unknown reason.

Daniel was lying on his back, eyes closed in a flushed face and trying to catch his breath. 

"Easy big guy, just relax." Jack sat the tray down on the nightstand. "Here, try something warm for your throat." After he witnessed Daniel's attempt to sit up on his own, Jack reached down and supported him until the sick man could manage to sit in an upright position on his own. Then Jack seated himself on the bed and handed Daniel the mug of hot tea. Placing his hand on Daniel's warm face, he estimated that his temperature was at least 100 degrees. The unsteadiness of the mug holding hand also indicated the weakness and debility of the patient. "Can you hold what you've got, Danny? I'm gonna go make a phone call." At the younger man's nod, Jack moved back into the living room area, picked up the telephone and called Cheyenne Mountain. 

"Hello, General Hammond, it's O'Neill. Sir, I need to take the day off. Yes Sir, I'm at Daniel's and he's got the crud. I'm not even sure he can get out of bed by himself. Thank you Sir and can you transfer me to Doc Fraiser's office. Appreciate it, Sir. Thanks a lot."

The phone clicked in his hand and a familiar feminine voice answered. "Hi ya, Doc. It's O'Neill. Look Danny's got some kinda crud. Fever, nausea, sweating and coughing up a lung from the sound of it. Yea, I'm taking a comp day and staying. Do you think....great. Yea, something for the fever at least...well, he's got Nyquil and Pepto by the bed. Okay, fluids, electrolytes and some Tylenol. Look Doc how about a....You read my mind. I knew I could depend on a southern gal like you to think that way. Yashuryabettcha. Yea, call Carter and ask her to tell everyone the dinner is off. Cool, thank's Doc. See ya this evening."

O'Neill moved back into the sickroom. "Daniel? You awake?" At his friend's nod, he continued. "Look, I'm gonna go run some errands, but I'll be back in an hour or two. Here's some hot bouillon and some crackers if you want it." At Daniel's negative headshake he nodded. "You try and get some sleep, I'll be back." Jack left the offerings at the bedside and went back down to his truck.

Several hours later, Jack returned to the apartment bearing several brown paper grocery bags. Letting himself back into the apartment, he dropped the bags off in the kitchen area and peeked back in at his Archeologist. Daniel had buried himself in the bedclothes again. One cracker appeared missing and half a cup of the bullion. Well, the man had tried for him after all.

Headed back to the kitchen, O'Neill started a pot of water boiling and started adding the fresh vegetables that he's picked up at the grocers. One of the ladies that worked in the store had given him some advice, but he'd already had a good start on a homemade soup recipe including a few selected pieces of chicken. Once he'd gotten that on to a slow boil, he put the kettle back on to make a fresh pot of Chamomile tea. He had memories of his childhood visits to Minnesota with the Grandparents O'Neill and the soft fragrant smell of the infamous cure-all. "Good for what ails ye, lad...being it man, beast or the croup." Granny would say as she added the dollop of honey and 'bit o' the spirits ta lift yers'. 

Next step, he hit the bathroom and started a tub of warm water running. After getting the projects started it was time to roll out his bed bug. After excavating through several layers of bedclothes, he located one slightly bedraggled Daniel. With much encouragement and some threats, the younger man was finally convinced that cleanliness was in fact to be preferred to the odiferiousness of his weekend of sickness and he was relocated to the bath. While the patient soaked, Jack stripped the bed and changed the sheets. Then he unwrapped Daniel's birthday present from him, a new pair of silk pajamas for the soon to be improved and better smelling Daniel to wear while re-burying himself in his clean bed.

Daniel appeared in the bathroom doorway wrapped in a towel and blinked at his friend. "Jack, whad are you doink her?" 

"Ensuring that I don't have to train a new team member. Feel like eating something?"

"No. Dank you bud go home."

"No. Here." Jack handed him the pajamas. "Put these on and get back into the bed. I'll bring you some tea."

"Hogey". He looked at the new PJs. They were a sapphire blue silk with Egyptian symbols of pyramids, mummies and ankhs printed on them. "Jag? Ware did you ged des?" Then a cough. 

Nope it wasn't pretty. Jack returned with the doctored tea and placed it in his friend's hand.

"I found them in a catalogue Doc had brought in. Cassie had gotten it in the mail and it wound up in the clinic waiting area. I thought of you when I saw them. Happy Birthday."

"Tank you. I've neber seen anyting like em befor." After Daniel took his first swallow, Jack rescued the cup and the clean sheets from the younger man's reaction. "Good greef," He coughed, gagged and sniffed. "Whad is in der?"

"Tea, honey and a shot of Irish Whiskey, Good for what ails ya Professor."

"You coud warn a guy, ya know." Daniel wheezed. "Dat's predy podent stuf."

"Yea, but not as entertaining." Jack smiled and handed the mug back to him. "And it cleared your sinuses this way."

"Yadchurdabedcha." He sniffed, inhaling the steam. "Whoo..ar you dringing to ged me drung?"

"No, I'm trying to get you to relax and sleep. Now, before that hits you...have some bouillon and another cracker or so."

"Nod Hongry, Jack. Tired." After Daniel climbed back in the clean bed, Jack patiently handed him another hot cup with bouillon this time.

"Here, drink this all and then get some more sleep. Doc's coming over this evening to check you out and bring you some stuff." 

"Dos she know aboud the tea?"

"Yea, I cleared it. Though she recommended Southern Comfort to the Whiskey." As he watched his friend, the doorbell rang. "Drink that. I'll be out in the living room if you need anything."

"Thangs. And Jag, thangs for da..." Daniel waved a hand over the pajamas. 

"Your welcome." Jack smiled back at him. "Drink the broth and get some sleep. That will be thanks enough." 

*******

Several hours later, Janet Fraiser and Sam Carter appeared at the apartment bearing gaily wrapped boxes, brightly colored bags and the Doc's little black medical bag. Janet slipped into the bedroom while Jack and Sam took the packages and put them on the table.

"How did you know he was sick, Sir?" Carter asked as she went over and stirred the soup bubbling in the large pot on the stove. "Did he call?"

Jack snorted. "No, he called in sick this morning and I came to check on him when the General's secretary sent me a note notifying that my 'team member' was missing a day of work." He shook his head. "We've all been working so hard lately; we've just been passing in the halls. It's a shame we've been so busy..." He shrugged. 

"Yes Sir, I know what you mean." She nodded. "We've kind of let the work get in the way of our friendship."

Jack nodded sadly, "Yep. The SGC has grown so much; it's not even the same command anymore." He looked at the gifts on the table. "What is all of this anyway?"

"Well, when I started calling everyone about canceling the dinner, they just dropped them off at my office. When I heard Janet was coming over to check on him, well, he can at least get presents even if we can't have the party tonight."

O'Neill glanced at the door doubtfully. "Well, we can give them to him but I think he'll not be real interested right now. He's trying to keep both lungs and his stomach lining intact."

Fraiser exited the sickroom drying her hands and shaking her head. "How long has he been like this, Colonel?"

"Found him late this morning, Doc. I don't know when he ate last, but I found empty medicine bottles in the trash can so he's been taking it for a while, probably all weekend."

She nodded. "I'd say if that's so, maybe this is the worst of it. I gave him a shot of corta-steroid to help with his lungs and gave him enough Septra and Tessalon pills for a couple of days. Whatever it was, it's bronchitis now." Janet looked at him. "Are you staying with him, or do I have to have his transported to the clinic?"

Jack looked at her. "Well, I guess I'll call Hammond. I'd hate to think of him in the clinic tonight."

She nodded. "Oh, I think he's expecting the call. He said something to me about waiting to hear from you when he dropped off the present." O'Neill nodded and headed for the phone.

 

The following morning, Daniel Jackson awoke to the sound of voices in his living room. He got up, pulled on a pair of sweat pants then started to head into the room but began coughing before he left the bedroom. Jack pushed the door open and entered, lending a hand to Daniel and supporting him back to the bed so he could sit down.

"Hey, how ya feeling?"

The red-rimmed blue eyes were a little clearer and his breathing sounded easier. "Bedder, danks." He looked around the bedroom. "How longe have you been here?"

"Since yesterday, Monday...Happy After birthday."

"Danks, I dink" Daniel breathed out through his mouth. "For a liddle bid, I didn'd dink I was gonna see thirty seven."

"And you didn't call one of us because..."

"I just wanded to sleep." He heaved a sigh and dropped his head. "We'fe all been so busy, and tings haven'd been, well, easy between us."

"Daniel, it's never been what I'd call easy...it bounces from great to fine to okay to bad to horrible. Easy was never in the selection." The older man shook his head. "But you know you can always count on us to help." Jack reached over and put his hand on Daniel's shoulder. "You hungry yet?" At Daniel's nod, the hand moved up to his cheek for a pat. He felt cooler this morning. "Come on, Soups been on since yesterday. It should be just about right now."

Slipping on a pair of worn sweat pants, Daniel followed his leader out into the living room area where he sat down on the couch. Jack went into the kitchen and filled up a bowl with the soup, piled some crackers a plate and poured some tea from the teapot where it had been steeping. He walked back into the living area and deposited it on the coffee table by Daniel. 

The younger man was looking in confusion at the pile of presents sitting on the table in front of him. "Jag, wad's dis?"

Jack looked at his amazement and smiled. "Well, since we couldn't go out to dinner without the Birthday boy, we postponed it...but when Doc and Carter came over last night they brought your presents. A dinner is just a dinner, but a birthday isn't a birthday without presents."

Daniel shook his head in disbelief. "Oh, you'd be surprised, Jag. You still ged a year oder even if nobody remembers."

"Not this year Danny." Jack looked at him fondly then picked up the TV remote. "Oh and part of my present to you is six months of cable service." He shook his head. "I can't believe you weren't getting the Discovery channel and the Learning Channel and all the others that you watch at my place."

His friend shrugged. "Nod much time to watch. Bud danks doh."

O'Neill nodded, "Not much time for a lot of stuff, Danny. Not much time for visiting, talking, enjoying our friends, doing just...things." Jack sighed and looked at his friend. "We need to make more time, for the important things in our lives." He felt a little embarrassed by the speech but pushed on. "Daniel, in my early career, I spent a lot of time doing the things I thought were important... work, career, missions. But seven years ago, I learned the hard way that when all was said and done I'd let the truly important part of my life get away. I thought I'd learned my lesson then, but it's easy to lose track and get caught in the same trap again. Look, we're two guys who don't have a lot of close friends for one reason or another. I for one want to keep the few I do have. I know I can be a real bastard. You can be a bit hard to deal with too. But, well, damn it Danny. You are my friend and I don't want to lose that friendship." He looked sideways at the younger man. "Especially to a case of bronchitis."

Daniel blinked at the older man then looked down at the bowl of soup. "Dat's the most speech I've ever heard you say." His voice was a little shaky.

"Well, don't expect to hear it again." Jack informed him gruffly. "Now eat your soup. Then you can open your presents."

"No kake?" 

"Yes, cake. Are you kidding, Cassie sent one over...but she baked it herself so all bets are off." Jack chuckled. "It's chocolate with cherries and pecans on it."

Daniel nodded as he took his first spoon of soup. "She tod me aboud it. Id zonded good."

"I'm sure it will be, Danny."

"Wad kinda zup, Jag?" He sniffed as the hot soup hit his sinuses and he coughed. "Garlig and onion?"

"Potatoes and carrots," Jack agreed. "A little strong, a little potent, a little sharp and a little thick, but definitely a force to reckoned with." He smiled at his friend. "Just like SG1."

Daniel smiled for the first time in two days. "Jus lig us, Jag."

"Just like us, Danny"


End file.
